


Red tiles

by piu_fairy_tales



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Antonio Fernández Carriedo - Freeform, Blood and Injury, Depression, Don’t be like Lovino please, Gen, Implied Spamano - but it really isn’t the focus here, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lovino Vargas - Freeform, Mentioned Spain (Hetalia), Panic, Self-Harm, Venting through fiction, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piu_fairy_tales/pseuds/piu_fairy_tales
Summary: Everything becomes a little too much for Lovino, so he decides to relieve some of the stress, but he isn’t in control as much as he thought he was. Now he must deal with the aftermath of his own actions.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Red tiles

Lovino blankly stared at himself in the mirror. A kitchen knife in his right hand, his left unoccupied. He looked a mess. His hair left abused, disturbed after slender fingers had rushed through. Pulled at the strands, entangled between the waves until they retreated. Dark circles under red rimmed eyes, normally concealed behind a layer of foundation.

He’d been here before. Less intent. More desperate.

His glance flicked down to the blade he wielded. He ran his fingertips over the cold metal, followed the handle down to his hand until he met his wrist. His fingers followed the curve as they slowly wrapped around, like a snake strangling it’s prey. He could clearly feel his own heartbeat against his fingers. His hand twisted around the limb, rubbing the skin. Something itched underneath, ready to be freed. His grip tightened looking back in the mirror, then he released.

Not his wrists. He didn’t plan on dying. Not today at least.

Still, he _needed_ to let out some of the pain. A mental burden that grew so strong it left his body tense and chest tight and yet it had nowhere to go and wouldn’t subside. The aching was too strong to handle, endless growing torture he didn’t know how much longer he could endure. He _had_ to translate it into something he understood, something he could deal with. Release some of the pressure, lest he would go insane.

Lovino closed his eyes when the blade pierced through fabric and flesh. Nothing... He swallowed thickly, his body too numb to register the abuse. He slowly removed the knife from his abdomen and tried again, unconcerned about the organs he may damage. He tried again, again and once more until finally, he felt warm blood drip from ripped skin. Crystal beads welled up in the corner of his eyes. Something burned inside, so he continued.

Repeating the same motion burning turned into a throbbing pain. A single tear rolled down his cheek and a faint smile of relief appeared on Lovino’s lips. It felt good, _so good_ to feel something. Something so strong the tension in his body finally dissipated, instead concentrating in a single place. It allowed him to breathe at last. He inhaled deeply and sighed.

Everything was fine until his hand started trembling, his knees started to buckle and his vision got blurry. He collapsed on the floor, dropping the knife beside him. Lovino tried to break his fall, but his hand slipped over the tiles leaving a streak of blood in its path.

He held his stomach, applying pressure to the wounds. Crimson soaked his sleeves upon contact. The realization hit; _his shirt was much too wet._ He looked down at his shaking hands in horror. His palms were painted red. His vision doubled. He couldn’t refocus. There was far too much blood and panic started to seep in.

He had to clean up the mess before Antonio would return home. He couldn’t find him like this. Not _again._ He couldn’t have Antonio clean up after him again. His eyes had been so broken. Lovino couldn’t recall ever seeing him so deeply hurt and sorrowful before. Knowing he was the cause made his heart ache. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t drag Antonio down with him.

He got enough determination to rise to his feet and stumbled over to the cabinet to get something, _anything,_ to wipe the blood with. His hipbone harshly hit the wood, the impact and pain disorientating him. He dropped to his knees again, his hands still on the edge of the sink, keeping him grounded. The cold porcelain against his fingers reminding him of how close he was too his goal.

He had to breathe dammit.

Tears prickled at the corner of his hazel eyes. The more he moved around the worse the pain got, or perhaps his adrenaline was running out. He tried to stand up, but couldn’t do it. Doubled over in pain he somehow gained enough strength to push through. He had to. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He should have been patient. He planned for this to be controlled. Not _this._ He quickly grabbed some paper towel before doubling over again.

Lovino didn’t move for minutes, biting his lower lip to deal with the pain. It had to stop, but he couldn’t escape it. Eventually he shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable, but no position was better than the other. He focused on his breathing instead. Taking a few deep breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Feeling slightly calmer he tried to wipe away the red, only spreading it across the tiles and light gray grout. He cursed.

His vision went double again, but Lovino kept wiping. Blood pooled quicker around him than he could wipe. He got a clean sheet to soak up the liquid, hoping, no praying, it would have more effect, but it didn’t do much either. He got frantic. His wiping had spread the mess. He only made it worse. There was too much red and not enough towels. It all became too much.

A wave of dizziness washed over him and Lovino felt himself falling. Falling into darkness or towards the floor again, he wasn’t sure. He barely managed to catch himself. Breaking the fall with his left hand, once more it slipped over the wet tiles. A few centimetres to the side and he would have landed on the knife he had dropped earlier, the damned object that started it all. He groaned in pain.

Finally he allowed his body a moment to relax. Trembling, Lovino laid down on his back, surrendering to the pain and despair. The only sounds in the room were his own laboured breathing and the soft whimpers that escaped past his lips. Still, his ears were ringing, but somehow he couldn’t hear the pounding of his heart anymore while it had been so strong before.

He couldn’t do it. He tried. Dammit, he tried! Lovino balled his fists in frustration. Tears streamed down his cheeks. This wasn’t the time to be weak and Lovino wasn’t a quitter. He refused to let Antonio find him like this. He couldn’t let Antonio fall victim to his ignorance and stupidity, because that’s really all it was. He’d been so foolish. So naive to overestimate his level of self-control in a situation like this. He couldn’t give up. Not now.

Lovino took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up again. He opened the cabinet and hastily reached for the first aid kit. He got blood on the clean towels and accidentally knocked something over. He didn’t see what and he couldn’t be bothered to check what it was right now either. He would worry about any of that later. Silently cursing himself for not thinking about it earlier in his panicked state he wrapped a bandage around his abdomen as tightly as he could.

Exhausted, he watched the battlefield around him. A murder scene. His breathing was ragged, his vision still blurry. His body was begging for a break, but he continued to fight for consciousness. Right now he had to rest. Save his energy, so he could clean the bathroom later when he would wake up. Yes, he would clean it before Antonio would return.

Unable to walk he crawled out of the bathroom. He dragged his body across the hallway to their bedroom. To their bed with the last bit of strength he could muster from within. He didn’t register if he climbed on the mattress or not, but somehow things felt softer than before. Maybe his body was just growing numb again? He didn’t know. Couldn’t think. Darkness took over at last.


End file.
